


Remember

by ravenhairedtrickster



Category: The Bells (book)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 13:26:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenhairedtrickster/pseuds/ravenhairedtrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus & Nicolai's relationship seen through Moses eyes. Remus/Nicolai.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Moses age and certain events probably differ from the book. Forgive my laziness in not bothering to check the actual text before writing this fic. It's sad there isn't a huge fandom for this lovely book.

The first time I ever saw Remus at the tender age of ten after Nicolai had rescued me from the river I had thought him ugly. His raven hair had been slicked back and greasy and his wolfish face had been hard, his dark emerald eyes cold as winter ice as he regarded me and I him. I was afraid of him the first few days despite the fact that his eyes never left the books he read or the fact that he never outright spoke to me; it was always Nicolai he conversed with, and even then their conversations were brief.

I was puzzled by him the entire journey and constantly tuned out Nicolai in favour of dissecting the sounds Remus made. They were few. His soft exhale, the sound of his ribs rattling and spine popping when his horse began to trot, the way his plain black wear, identical to Nicolai's, rustling airily, as if he were just bones and the cloth draped over him.

On occasion Nicolai would request that Remus read out loud and although both Nicolai and I found the books content to be boring I savoured the sound of Remus's well educated tongue utter words that I didn't even understand. There was a certain magic in the way he could bring to life meaningless prose. I recall being afraid at first of even his reading for he read with such passion and interest that I feared he was casting some sort of devil incantation; for a few days he was, to me, a wolfish wizard. The wolf I could see. The wizard was virtually non-existent.

I remember one morning very clear. The morning Nicolai first spoke of love to me, the morning Remus almost fell off his horse after Nicolai startled it by swinging a long twig. He had been ugly then too, even after Nicolai had whispered to me that the wolf believed in love, that he had heard it from him first hand. Remus's book had snapped violently shut and to this day I remember the scowl that had painted the wolfs face. I heard the echos of his heart beating faster, heard the sharp intake of air and the near absent hint of betrayal lacing the mans angry tone as he said: "Careful who you tell your secrets to."

Nicolai had blushed but cheerfully replied, "Don't worry Remus, we can trust Moses with our secrets."

I hadn't understood the meaning of his words but didn't mind. I always liked it when Nicolai spoke, Remus had merely frowned, turned his back to us and buried his nose in his book.

For the rest of the journey the duration of my time was spent leaning back against Nicolai's belly and listening to his tales of foreign lands as we rode.

Remus hardly made a sound. If he hadn't been a wolf already I would've taken him to be a mouse. During these long days full of Nicolai talking I learned we were heading to a Monk monastery; as they were both monks. Nicolai said he wanted me to stay with them. Remus said the abbot of the monastery would sooner than thrown me out on the street than allow me to take sanctuary within their walls.

When we arrived I found Remus had been right. What befell me after being snuck in, discovered and then admitted into the choir was something even Remus couldn't have anticipated.

At the tender age of eleven my choir teacher, a perverted old prune obsessed with my song voice, dragged me from my shared room during the middle of the night insisting that he needed me to practice my pristine singing. I don't remember much of what happened that night, only the cheshire grin of the awaiting doctor, the wine they forced down my throat and the bile that rose as they dug into me and cut me. What followed was weeks of swollen discomfort between my thighs and the gift of being given a room all to myself. I told no one as my testicles shrivelled up and vanished. I was eleven, confused and sworn to secrecy on pain of having my tongue cut out.

It was rare that I saw Nicolai these days and even more so Remus. However I did hear rumours from the other choir boys. Dark whispers of sodomy. I didn't understand the word and I wouldn't find out for another two years what it meant.

In my dungeon, as Nicolai called my room, was sweet solitude. I came for respite. A break from the teasing and taunting of the maturing choir boys. I didn't understand why they grew brutish with muscle while I grew only in slender height and began developing a birdlike chest. While my fingers tapered off elegantly theirs just ended. Where they grew facial hair, I was hairless. As their voices cracked, mine stayed unchanged if improved. My hearing even grew to knew heights. I could now dissect every sound. That was another difference. When they walked they sounded fuller, more complete. I was feather like and deathly silent. There was only one other who could match my silence and that was the wolf, Remus.

I saw him once or twice at Sunday Mass when I sung, every time he sat stiffly beside Nicolai's giant form, dwarfed and stern looking. I imagined he was sour because he was forbidden to read during service—and of course Nicolai dragged him to it every Sunday. It was the frivolous days when I was thirteen that I began seeing Nicolai and Remus's relationship like I had never seen it before. I didn't yet understand love or what Nicolai had told me of it yet but I knew what sodomy was and somehow it didn't seem possible. And if it was I didn't care. They were my friends and I could find nothing wrong about them being closer than just that. Of course I never truly believed the rumours despite the looks Nicolai gave Remus. Not until the day I walked to Nicolai's room wanting company.

I heard them before I had reached the room. My hearing was uncanny and from a soft exhale and the clicking of stiff joints I knew it was Remus accompanying Nicolai within. I heard the rustle of clothing, the thud and the slide of Remus's bare feet as Nicolai backed him into the wall. I had heard kisses before but never so ravishing and I felt myself redden when their lips joined, a wet suction of teeth and tongue, a fury amidst Nicolai's gentle need.

As I listened to the creak of Nicolai's abused bed I felt foolish. Here I was standing outside. Listening to my two guardians make love. The bed dipped and the mattress springs cried in anguish as Nicolai's weight pushed them down.

There was a hitched gasp and then I heard the sweet caress of Nicolai's thick fingers running down the smooth plains of Remus's belly, the almost musical sound of digits on Remus's jutting ribs, the wet pop of Nicolai's lips leaving a damp kiss on the wolf's hip. They took their time exploring each others bodies. Nicolai worshipping Remus with careful touches and hushed whispers of love. Remus returning the gestures, a sneaky kiss here, a daring touch there. It was like a beautiful dance of sound and to my pleasure I was the sole listener.

Years before I recalled Nicolai telling me of the flash when two halves become one. I hadn't understood but as I listened I learned, and as I learned I pictured and in a moment of fluttered panting and harsh breathing I heard those two halves become one. It was a glorious racket to my ears. I heard Remus's fingers clench the damp sheets, heard his soft plea so unlike anything I'd ever heard from him before, the swish of his hair as his head lulled back and his needy moan as Nicolai's fingers tightened on fragile hips.

It was that moment of frenzied gasps and the slick slosh of Nicolai burying deep within Remus that I found the wolf beautiful.

Even though I couldn't physically see him I knew that in the throes of passion he must have looked like an angel, so lost and imperfect.

I heard Nicolai grunt and the bed squeaked loudly beneath his rocking thrusts. I heard the slap of skin on skin as clear as day and as it grew louder and faster I heard Nicolai whisper something so sacred that I felt elation in hearing it. His voice was rough but soft as he murmured into Remus's ear words he must have believed only the wolf would hear.

 _You are my whole world_ , he breathed and Remus cried out in ecstasy. _You are my everything, the moon to my sun, the wolf to my sheep, the beauty to my ugly_.

There was a long pause and the bed creaked so violently it heaved off the floor for a split second before thumping back to the earth. I listened intently, the blood pounding in my ears, my hearing extra sensitive and then I heard it.

 _And my ragged wolf_ , Nicolai uttered kissing Remus with such passion that I thought their love for each other might explode right then and there, _I love you_.

And explode it did. With a feral roar Nicolai filled the depths of Remus with his seed and as the room went silent I heard a quiet exhale of breath that signalled Remus's completion. I heard one more kiss and Remus's shy 'I love you' then I shakily turned and went on my way.

Later in life when Remus and I would bury Nicolai I would remember this moment so sacred and raw. And looking at the wolfs beautiful tear stained face I would wonder if he too _remembered_.


End file.
